The waves rippled and the rocking skiff glided over the broad expanse of waters which, on the south side, appeared endless.
From the way in which the two men spoke to the Master, Simon thought to himself: "A rabbi, and they are his pupils." To the Master's questions regarding his life and trade, the fisherman gave respectful answers, taking care to remark that he had not to complain of overmuch good fortune, for often he fished all day and all night without catching anything, a success he could equally well obtain if he lay all day idle in his boat and let himself be rocked.
The Master asked him with a smile what he would say to fishing for men.
"I don't know what you mean." "You've already three in your net," said James gaily.
"And God help me!" exclaimed the fisherman, "for we must pray to Him for help to-day.

Look over there at the mountains of Hium.

Just now it looks so beautifully blue that you would take it for a sunny sky.
But the white edges! In an hour there'll be more of them." "Hoist the sail, fisherman, and bale out," advised James.

"I understand something of the business." "Then you wouldn't say hoist the sail to-day," returned Simon.
"Listen," said James; "you know the river which brings the black sand and the little red fishes with the sharp heads down to this lake from the mountains of Golan.

My cottage was by that river--you surely know it ?" "Isn't it there still ?" asked Simon.
"It is there, but it is no longer mine," said James.